Tom Morgan

Tom was 30 when he passed away on 15th June 2009.

My phone was ringing at 5.30am that morning. Panic set in, it had to be bad news. It was my Dad telling me that my brother had passed away.

Disbelief set in. He was 30. He had gone to bed on the Sunday night and didn’t have any complaints of feeling unwell, but when my stepdad was trying to wake him up he was just laying on his bed, fully clothed (as he quite often would) shoes on also. He had just laid on the bed.

The phone call was the worst thing. I live 300 miles away so I felt useless. That day passed in a blur. I went to the family the next morning.

It was nearly 3 months later that we got any real cause of death, and that was S.A.D.S. – which to be honest I do not understand and it just felt like they had to tell us something.

It will be a year next month and it gets no easier to deal with. I miss him every day as do my Mum, Dad, stepdad, brothers and sister and all his nieces and nephews – and not forgetting his hundreds of friends, who on request from the family, all wore Liverpool (his team) or red at his funeral. It was a bittersweet moment.

It was so touching at his funeral to see how many people turned up and honoured his Liverpool. He would have loved it.

Miss you every day Tom, with all the love in the world.


In the quiet of the evening I sit and think of you,

I open up my memory book,

Of the things we used to do,

And as I turn the pages,

My eyes are filled with tears,

For, although I have my memories,

I can’t hold back the years.

Helen Morgan